


tell me what you want

by kangtv (galacticnik)



Category: HOTSHOT (Band), Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Jung Sewoon (mentioned), M/M, i don't know what this is or why i wrote it, look ma i'm contributing, mentioned past Ha Sungwoon/Noh Taehyun, mentioned past Kim Jaehwan/Jung Sewoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnik/pseuds/kangtv
Summary: Sungwoon and Jaehwan's relationship has been vague from the beginning, but Sungwoon might finally want something more concrete.





	tell me what you want

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from jelly by hotshot. self-edited, so please forgive any spelling/grammar/punctuation/formatting flubs!

Bitterly, he thinks his fate is to always be someone’s second choice.

Ha Sungwoon is not a ‘first.’ _Has_ never been a ‘first.’ Going through life knowing he’s a consolation prize is strange; it turns him hard before his time, even though Sungwoon is a born cynic who _should be used to this._ Instead, fresh disappointment weighs down on his chest as he wakes up to cold sheets and utter silence.

Sighing, he sits up and rubs his eyes. Why did he expect differently? It’s a pattern now. Sungwoon wakes up alone every morning regardless of whether he goes to bed alone or not. A jagged splinter of irritation digs itself deeper into his heart with each passing second. He ignores it.

Dragging himself out of bed, he slips a shirt on and shuffles into the kitchen. Sungwoon stops in front of the fridge and yawns, eyes passing over the note stuck to the smooth surface. It’s on ridiculously cute bear-shaped stationary unearthed from the depths of his drawers. _Sorry, had to leave early_ , it reads. No signature, but he recognizes Jaehwan’s messy handwriting.

 _It’s fine_ , he thinks, taking out a carton of orange juice. His hips bump against the counter as he lifts it to his mouth, throwing a wry glance at the stack of dirty dishes piled up in the sink. It’s not like he needs to impress anyone. It’s not like this—whatever he and Jaehwan are—is a relationship. It’s not like Sungwoon needs to wake up to Jaehwan’s face in the morning.

His throat feels thick. _Slimy._ Sungwoon crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

 

—

 

Ha Sungwoon first met Kim Jaehwan at their university’s coffee shop during an open mic night.

The image is burnt into his brain: Jaehwan in a sky blue button down and dark jeans, tousled hair, strumming his guitar and singing a sad love song. Sungwoon remembers thinking, _who is this guy_ and _I bet my sad love song is sadder than his._

(The competitive thing is weird in general. He’s trying to kick the habit).

When Sungwoon sang next, it was to quieter, scattered applause. He figured it was because he lacked the accompaniment Jaehwan had, but that didn’t help him feel any less annoyed towards the man for stealing a show that _should_ have and had been Sungwoon’s for the last few months.

He was even more annoyed when he came to terms with the fact that the audience's reaction to Jaehwan’s performance was perfectly justified. Sungwoon couldn’t get the man’s song out of his head either. Talent recognizes talent, but there was more to it Sungwoon couldn’t place. Something beyond the soulful guitar plucking that made him look over at Jaehwan while tucked away in the corner of the shop, nursing a cold cup of coffee and scribbling angry song lyrics onto a napkin.

Jaehwan had a magnetism—it wasn’t overflowing visuals or poise, but Sungwoon found himself gravitating towards the musician, to him and his voice, his sad eyes, his elegant fingers and unblemished hands. Every time he glanced over, Jaehwan was squarely there in his view, pen tucked behind his ear and guitar leaning against his chair. Jaehwan kept looking down and patting his case as if to make sure it was still there and Sungwoon wanted to cover his face for reasons unknown to him.

Could be because it was adorable. Could also be because this cold coffee was making him sick.

The fluttery, slightly bouncy feeling in his chest pointed towards hypothesis number one. Sungwoon was a goddamn cliche. His life would’ve been a lot easier if he could just hate Jaehwan for his beautiful voice and haunting song, but the warmth spreading through his body was not—hate. Not in the slightest.

Sungwoon was a grown man and he felt like a middle schooler clutching a box of chocolates to his chest on Valentine’s Day.

He refused to act like more of a loser than he already was. Bunching up his napkins, he downed the rest of his drink and stood up. Walked past Jaehwan’s table once (he didn’t look up), then walked back to his table and took a moment or two to pretend he didn’t just pull a dumb teenager move. Once he’d gotten a grip on himself, he headed over once more and tried to act like he hadn’t already ruined his chances of making a decent first impression. “Hey,” Sungwoon said, rubbing the back of his head. “Can I buy you a coffee? Or some tea, if you’re a tea guy.”

Jaehwan looked up, a frown creasing between his eyebrows. It relaxed when his expression brightened up with recognition. “Huh, pretty generous offer. You a fan?” His fingers played with the frayed cuffs of his sleeves. “Why not? Can you get me a large? Oh, larger than a large. What is larger than a large?”

“Extra large.” Sungwoon raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing this is one of many.”

Jaehwan laughed and scratched his cheek. “Yeah, can you tell? Do I look jumpy? I feel jumpy.”

“Jumpy is cute,” Sungwoon found himself saying. “I mean, _you’re_ cute.” Neither were things he wanted to actually tell Jaehwan, but the man didn’t seem uncomfortable, simply took it in stride. “I’ll take my foot out of my mouth and go get that coffee now.” He was desperate to flee and not return, but Jaehwan’s laughter followed him to the counter and pulled him back.

Half an hour later, Sungwoon had a number scrawled on a napkin and gotten to hear Jaehwan laugh a couple more times. He wasn’t a funny person, really, but his crap sense of humor served a purpose here. Jaehwan’s laughter wasn’t graceful or melodious—kind of awful, if Sungwoon was being honest—but he liked the sound and hated himself for it.

The conversation hit a lull as the evening set in. Jaehwan’s third Sungwoon-bought-and-paid-for coffee cup lay empty and since he wasn’t going to buy him anymore (“For your own safety,” he told Jaehwan), it was a sign Sungwoon should say goodbye for a night. But he leaned back in his chair instead and asked a question that had been on his mind since the beginning. “So, who are you singing for?” Jaehwan’s pen slipped from his hands and Sungwoon quickly amended, “About?”

Jaehwan glanced to the side, then back at Sungwoon, mouth puckering in confusion. “What?”

“Nobody sings like that unless it’s for someone,” Sungwoon said. He could claim that because something about the underlying emotions in his voice was all too familiar. “I could be wrong, I guess, but I don’t think I am.”

Jaehwan shifted uncomfortably. “It’s…” He broke off, fingers wrapping around his empty coffee cup. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter anymore.” He raised it to his lips to take a sip but shook his head when he remembered there was nothing left. The tips of his ears were red; Sungwoon thought it was pretty cute. Also thought he was too sober to be thinking shit like that unironically.

He didn’t want to fuck this up and chase Jaehwan away. “Course not,” he said, dropping the issue and giving Jaehwan a brilliant smile. “You’re sitting here with me, right?” The overblown confidence in his voice took Jaehwan aback; he was frozen for a few seconds before he burst into loud laughter and threw his head back, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“You’re… something,” Jaehwan said when he finally calmed down. Sungwoon didn’t think it was a _bad_ something, just a something. “For the record, your song was nice too. Who were you singing for?” And Sungwoon was momentarily shaken because he didn’t think Jaehwan was paying attention, much less that closely.

Sungwoon was better used to these kinds of hurts than Jaehwan was, he thought. It didn’t phase him much at this point, though he still didn’t like talking about it. He’d asked first, but some things were probably best left in the past. Sungwoon smiled, showing no teeth. “Doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied.

The faint glint in Jaehwan’s eyes sharpened into pointed interest. “Touche.” He looked at Sungwoon like he might have found a kindred spirit at the coffee shop that night.

(Sungwoon looked at him like he’d found his next heartbreak).

 

—

 

“Hi,” Jaehwan says, dropping into the chair beside Sungwoon in the library. “Guess who probably failed his music analysis midterm. If you said me, you’re right.”

“You probably did fine,” Sungwoon says. He’s not good at being an emotional support, nor does he really have time. After being kicked out of the TA’s office, he had to relocate here to finish marking papers for the class he’s teaching. In addition to being the most irritating job ever (first years are idiots), Sungwoon has two hours before his class starts and more than half the stack to go through.

His response has nothing to do with the fact that he’s still sulking over this morning. Because that would be childish and he is not.

Jaehwan laces his hands behind his head and sighs. “Yeah, well, you didn’t see that guy break down in tears in the third row.”

“Poor him.”

“Poor _me_. I borrowed his study notes.”

“Mhmmm.” Sungwoon lets out a half hearted noise. His glasses slide down his nose as he squints at a particularly badly constructed sentence and circles the whole thing in red ink. _Korean is not a hard language, people_ , he wants to scream, but maybe it’s too hard to expect first years to write anything up to his (admittedly high) standards.

Jaehwan studies him in silence before reaching over and snatching the red pen from Sungwoon’s hands. “Pay attention to me,” he grumbles, and tosses the pen over his shoulder.

Sungwoon looks up with a yelp. “That was my favorite pe—”

Before he can finish, Jaehwan slides Sungwoon’s glasses off his face and kisses him deeply enough to make his toes curl, to have that familiar electric shiver run down his spine. He forgets his annoyance as Jaehwan pulls away, a cheeky grin blossoming on his face while he puts Sungwoon’s glasses back. “Punishment,” he says. “ _Listen_ to me, hyung.”

“Fine,” Sungwoon says, a little out of breath and struggling to hide it. “Let’s talk about your shitty midterm—is that why you left early this morning?” He doesn’t actually mean to ask. Doesn’t need to know where Jaehwan was or why he left, because it’s not his place.

Jaehwan settles back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah. Well, Sewoon wanted to cram at the library before the exam, so.” He shrugs and Sungwoon doesn’t miss the way Jaehwan’s eyes crinkle in happiness when he says Sewoon’s name. And he should—should—be okay with Jaehwan’s friendship, but it makes him antsy knowing his history with Sewoon. It burns, he thinks, deep inside. That stupid competitive thing rearing its ugly head again, screaming, _don’t, don’t, not him._

He’s a mature adult; he can control it. “Really? Nice of you to join him,” Sungwoo says flatly, then winces when he hears how it comes out. Maybe he can’t control it as well as he thought.

Jaehwan looks puzzled and slowly shakes his head. “Not really. I needed the extra study time.” The corners of his mouth lift as he nudges Sungwoon’s arm. “We can’t all be geniuses.” His tone is light and playful, but something about it grates on Sungwoon’s nerves. Residual irritation from the crappy essays he’s had to read, or crankiness from a lack of food, or just the thought of Jaehwan and Sewoon alone together in the early hours of the morning, heads bent over notes, sleepy smiles abound—

“I work hard for everything I have,” he bites out after a long pause.

“I know that.” Jaehwan’s smile slips off his face. “Something wrong? You seem—”

“No.” Sungwoon fishes another pen out of his bag and adds, “I have papers to grade.”

It feels like an eternity before Jaehwan stands up and pushes his chair back. “O… kay,” he says slowly, and Sungwoon doesn’t need to look at him to know his expression is guarded.

“Sorry.” His tongue is heavy and unresponsive. Sungwoon wants to be the better person and let this go, but his mind is a mess and he’s… _well_ , not a good person.

“I get it. Work’s important.” Jaehwan sounds resigned. Sungwoon swallows and grips his pen tighter.

 _You’re more important_ , he should say, but that doesn’t sound right. It’s toeing the line—do they even have a line? Their relationship is loosely defined. Sungwoon has never once called Jaehwan a boyfriend or even told him he likes him. They’re not friends with benefits either, just existing in some kind of limbo. Not together or apart, just… something. An almost.

He swallows. “You coming over tonight?” Sungwoon asks. He doesn’t want to leave things like this, and maybe he’s unnecessarily selfish, but he wants to see Jaehwan still, doesn’t want to end on a bad note. Sungwoon looks up and meets Jaehwan’s eyes, who blinks, his hands curled into fists. He watches as Jaehwan uncurls his fingers and rests them on Sungwoon’s arm.

“Yeah,” Jaehwan says quietly. “I’ll see you there.”

 

—

 

By the end of their second coffee date, Sungwoon had figured a couple of things out.

One, that Jaehwan had recently gotten out of a two year relationship with Jung Sewoon for reasons unknown (reasons Sungwoon didn’t bother to delve into). Two, that the aforementioned Jung Sewoon was still good friends with Jaehwan, because for some reason ‘we’ll still be friends’ was not just a break up platitude. Three, that Jaehwan was on the rebound, looking for something casual, fun, perhaps as a distraction but definitely not something serious. Four, despite his unconcerned attitude, every sad love song Jaehwan sang was still for Jung Sewoon.

Sungwoon didn't mind. He wasn’t looking for a legitimate connection or anything longterm, partly because he didn’t know what it was about Jaehwan that held his interest. Was it lust or fascination or some kind of weird loathing that compelled him to like someone who clearly wouldn’t like him back as much as he wanted him to? Was it Jaehwan’s voice, his eyes, the way he sometimes grew quiet and contemplative, as if there was a weight on him he didn’t know how to fight? Or was it the way his face would brighten when Sungwoon called his name?

If Jaehwan had his past, Sungwoon had his own. He’d dated a lot; a good chunk of them were crappy relationships, girls and guys looking to spite exes or settling for him. Others were ones he sometimes hurt himself thinking about, quiet people seeking comfort or those who trusted in him (but not enough to stay). He was not a permanent harbor for anyone. And when people left, it was never a surprise because Sungwoon was well aware they would someday. He walked into this shit with his eyes open because on some level, he liked to hurt himself.

And he would hurt himself on Jaehwan gladly.

From the opening notes of Jaehwan’s performance, he was in deep. That was how Sungwoon fell, without fail, every single time. He was in love with other people’s pain because it reminded him of his own.

 

—

 

He hits the bar before heading home. Sungwoon isn’t a big drinker to begin with, but the place’s staff and patrons know him too well. One way or another, he’s often ended up here in the past three years. Slipping into his usual seat at the counter, he orders a couple of shots and down them in quick succession, ignoring the bartender’s judgemental stare. It never affected him before and it won’t affect him now.

Twirling the empty shot glass between his fingers, Sungwoon says, “I think I want something more.” Jaehwan’s been on his mind all day. Him and their ambiguous relationship, and Sungwoon is finally ready to admit that he’s not happy with the way things are. He’s being greedy, but he wants something concrete with Jaehwan. It’s not the first time he’s felt like this. The desire to not want to lose something precious, something with potential, is simply too strong this time.

Taehyun is used to his ramblings by now. _Too_ used to them; he doesn’t even blink an eyelash as he tosses the cleaning rag over his shoulder and leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then what’s stopping you, man?”

Sungwoon shrugs. “Rejection?” He taps his glass against the counter, silently asking for a refill. He has an eight am class to teach tomorrow, but he’ll deal with whatever hangover that comes later.

Taehyun snorts but fills his glass again. “Just do it.” He’s blunt and devoid of sympathy. Sungwoon doesn’t expect anything else.

Five years and Taehyun hasn’t changed. Sungwoon thought he hadn’t either, and yet he’s definitely not the same person he was when they met. The bitter taste in his mouth intensifies and he laughs self deprecatingly. “I wanted something more from you too.”

Taehyun flinches. He grabs a glass and furiously begins wiping it. Sungwoon doesn’t bother to point out that it’s already clean. The unspoken rule between the two of them (the reason why Taehyun grudgingly lets him run up a huge tab) is that they don’t talk about their shared past. “I wasn’t the guy, Sungwoon,” Taehyun finally says. And he’s heard this before, but it never stops hurting.

Sungwoon swallows the acerbic words in his mouth. “Sounds like an excuse,” he says blandly.

Taehyun shrugs but doesn’t meet his eyes. “Someday you’ll believe it.”

 _Yeah, well._ Sungwoon downs the contents of his glass and tries to wash away the taste of old heartbreaks. “Someday you’ll believe it too.”

 

—

 

Everyone has a love they can’t forget.

Jung Sewoon is Jaehwan’s.

Sungwoon’s might have been Noh Taehyun. Might still be, but every day is another step he takes further away from the memories of their time together. It’s an old wound now, one Sungwoon forgets about most days, but every now and then it flares up. He can forget about it more easily when he’s with other people.

And that’s what Jaehwan is doing with him: forgetting Sewoon. Sungwoon’s been on both sides of it to recognize the look on his face when they’re together. He’s a band aid or security blanket at best. He knows he will never be _that guy_ , the one you think about years from now and call ‘the one that got away’ (but God, he wants to be).

There’s some truth to the idea that Sungwoon is a second choice, but it works the other way around too. Everyone is a second choice _to_ Sungwoon. They’re all settling, he thinks, trying to find comfort where they can, hoping to forget the people their hearts latch onto. If he’s bitter about being a consolation prize, others are too.

But it’s not the end of everything. Second choice is still a _choice_. He chose to walk up to Jaehwan that day, and Jaehwan chose to see him again after. They chose to be together, even if it was in a weird, fucked up way that didn’t make any sense.

And if he’s being honest, he wants to choose Jaehwan, period. Sungwoon likes who he is around him. Likes talking to him about dumb stuff, likes watching television with him, likes going out for coffee, likes the silence between them too, and that’s saying a whole lot. Sometimes it feels one-sided, sometimes not. Sungwoon can’t read Jaehwan as well as he would like.

Therein lies the problem: Jaehwan might not want to be something more to Sungwoon.

 

—

 

Sungwoon comes home to find Jaehwan sitting on his couch and turning his phone over in his hands. It surprises him, for some reason, even though _Sungwoon_ was the one who asked him to come over. He hopes the alcohol isn’t too obvious on his breath as he shuts the door behind him and mumbles out a quick, “Hey there.”

“Hi,” Jaehwan says, uncharacteristically solemn. “We need to talk.” He pockets his phone and stands up, wiping his palms on his pants.

Sungwoon drops his keys on the table. _Ah_ , he thinks. _Here it comes_. Here comes the ‘you’re a nice guy but I’m still in love with my ex and you’re not him and I’m sorry.’ He’s so fucking stupid. It could be the alcohol talking, but he knows without a doubt that this is the end. Sungwoon feels it in his gut; he’s gone through it too many times to not recognize the signs. Still, it always takes the wind out of his sails.

But time he says, “Okay, I need to say something first.” Sungwoon opens his mouth to deliver a long, complicated, and probably sappy as fuck speech floating around in the back of his head, but what comes out is, “I really fucking like you.” His voice breaks a little on the last syllable because this is the first time in a long while he’s said something like this, and all he can think about is Jaehwan telling him he doesn’t—

But Jaehwan blinks at him, mouth open, then ducks his head and starts laughing. “I really fucking like you too,” he says, cheeks pink. Hands sliding into his pockets, he kicks at the dust bunny on the floor and holds his breath.

“I knew you didn’t—what?” Caught off balance, Sungwoon stumbles forward and nearly falls on Jaehwan, who grabs both his arms and steadies him just in time. “But— _what?_ ”

“Are you drunk?” Jaehwan asks, still chuckling, his face close to Sungwoon’s.

“Yeah,” he admits. “But what? Sewoon—”

Jaehwan’s expression softens. Clearing his throat, he says, “Hasn’t been a thing for a while. Were you worried about him?” Sungwoon’s too ashamed to say _yes_ , so he looks away and burns a hole into the faded carpet with his eyes. Jaehwan’s grip on his arms loosens and he pulls away. “I wouldn’t have stuck around for so long if I didn’t care. I just thought you—”

Sungwoon’s mouth is dry. “What?”

“Might not want to be with me,” Jaehwan finishes quietly.

Sungwoon’s chest feels extremely hot. He’d considered a lot of things, gone through a crap ton of scenarios, but none of them involved Jaehwan having doubts of how much Sungwoon cared about him. It’s his fault, and fine, he’s not the most affectionate or clear about his feelings. But he means it completely and wholeheartedly when he says, “Of course I do. I’ll always want you.” Second choice, first choice, whatever. He's tired of feeling like he can't find a home with someone when that someone could possibly be standing right in front of him.

Jaehwan’s blush grows deeper. “You’re drunk.”

“And honest.”

“ _Drunk_ ,” Jaehwan counters, pretending to pinch his nose in disgust. “Go to bed.”

Sungwoon reaches for Jaehwan’s hand. “Come with me.” He swallows. “And stay.” The last is a hard favor to ask for. "Be there when I wake up."

Jaehwan’s fingers intertwine with Sungwoon’s. “I got you.”

 

—

 

(Months later, Sungwoon asks Jaehwan if he knows any happy love songs.

“Just one,” he answers, grinning and pulling out his guitar.

Sungwoon bursts into laughter when it’s just Jaehwan singing his name over and over again).

**Author's Note:**

> i don't usually write for rare pairs but this has been in my docs for a while and i figured i should try and finish it so! here we are. this is a bit of an experimental fic and i really hope i didn't butcher the ship!!


End file.
